“Right, good,” Carlton said, pulling himself away from the scene. Marla was smiling with relief. “We still have to be careful, though,” he warned. “I can’t guarantee it works on everything, and it definitely won’t work on people.”

Marla shivered, then nodded quickly. “There’s a room past the stage,” she said.

“Looks like an arcade,” Carlton said grimly.

Marla slowed by the stage, her hand drifting toward the curtain as if she might try to look behind it. “No.” Carlton grabbed Marla’s hand. “The last thing we want to do is call any attention to ourselves.” Marla nodded in agreement.

The arcade smelled overpoweringly of new plastic, the games gleaming and scarcely played. There were a dozen or so freestanding arcade cabinets, and two pinball machines, one—predictably, by now—clown-themed, and the other painted with cartoonish snake charmers. Carlton gave them a wide berth. Marla caught his sleeve and gestured to a closed door on the wall to their left, an EXIT sign glowing red above it, and he nodded. They headed for it, creeping past a “test your strength” game, governed by an adult-size clown with a face made of jagged metal plates who nodded continuously, its painted smile maniacal. As they passed Carlton watched it carefully, but its eyes did not seem to track their movements. When they reached the door, Carlton took a deep breath, then gently pushed on the bar. It gave way immediately, and Marla sighed with relief. Carlton pushed the door open, holding it out for her, then froze as the unmistakable clack of servos broke the silence behind them.

They both spun around; Carlton braced his arm in front of Marla’s chest protectively, his heart racing, but nothing was moving. He scanned the room, then saw it: the clown standing over the game was staring at them, its head cocked to the side. Carlton glanced at Marla, and she nodded minutely: she had seen it, too. Slowly, she backed through the door, as Carlton watched the animatronic, but it showed no further signs of movement. When Marla was safely through the door, Carlton waved his arms, hoping desperately that it would not see him. The clown remained motionless, having apparently returned to stasis. Carlton slipped out of the room and closed the door carefully behind him. He turned, and almost fell over Marla, who was backed up almost to the wall. “Watch it,” he whispered good-naturedly, catching her shoulder for balance.